


I Get A Kick Out Of You

by Decepticonsensual



Series: Tiny Important Words [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27090892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/pseuds/Decepticonsensual
Summary: Rodimus walks in on something he wasn't supposed to hear.  Minimus learns something he didn't expect to find out.
Relationships: Minimus Ambus/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime, Rodimus | Rodimus Prime/Ultra Magnus
Series: Tiny Important Words [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977247
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	I Get A Kick Out Of You

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a series of short fics I wrote on Tumblr for prompts taken from this list: https://decepticonsensual.tumblr.com/post/631057835507286016/two-part-drabble-game
> 
> The prompt for this story was: _being walked in on_ \+ “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. Would you mind saying that again?”

“Can’t.”

Minimus cycled his optics. Then again. It didn’t change the view in front of him: Rodimus lying on his belly on Minimus’s bunk, hands clasped under his chin, beaming. Nor did it help him make sense of the completely unexpected word Rodimus had just uttered.

In fairness, Minimus had been off balance for the last few minutes of conversation - ever since he’d punctuated a particularly soaring note in the Frank Sinatra ballad he was crooning with an indulgently dramatic spin, opened his optics, and almost choked upon seeing Rodimus watching him from the doorway.

Rodimus, of course, had been utterly unrepentant about walking in on Minimus’s singing practice, and had, in fact, gone ahead and clambered uninvited onto Minimus’s bed, where he’d grinned, waved a hand, and invited ( _invited!_ ) Minimus to continue.

Minimus, blushing hot and completely unprepared for the sight of his… _new boyfriend? Date? Partner? …_ of his _captain_ , watching him in bright-opticked expectation as if he were listening to a private concert, had demurred. Rodimus had insisted. This had gone on for a bit, until Minimus, in some exasperation, told Rodimus that he could sing himself if he wanted to hear singing so badly, and Rodimus had replied…

Minimus coughed, and said, “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. Would you mind saying that again?”

“Can’t,” Rodimus repeated cheerfully. “Can’t sing. At _all.”_

Minimus continued to stare. He couldn’t recall a time in the past where Rodimus had ever said he _couldn’t_ do something. The more usual progression was along the lines of, “Of course I can do parkour… _owww,”_ and there were certainly things (paperwork) that Minimus suspected Rodimus of doing badly on purpose to get out of them. But for the captain to straight-up admit to an inability was unheard of.

Minimus ended up blurting out, “Why?”

Rodimus shrugged. “Can’t carry a tune. Some mechs just aren’t forged with the ability, you know? Trust me, I’ve tried. The guys in my first unit were, uh. They made it pretty clear that whatever I was doing wasn’t working.” His smile was still switched on as bright as ever, but there was something about his optics…

“Did you… want to be able to sing?”

Rodimus shrugged again. “Doesn’t matter.” He rolled onto his back, arms folded under his head; a deliberately casual pose that also has the side effect of hiding his face from Minimus. “I like listening to you.”

Minimus felt a painful throb in his spark that would have sent him straight to Ratchet, if he didn’t have a pretty good idea of its origin.

Carefully, he said, “You know, many singers hold that there isn’t really any such thing as an inability to sing - only a lack of training. I would be very happy to teach you.”

“You’d have to put up with me making a fuckawful racket.” Rodimus still wasn’t looking at him.

Minimus restrained himself from saying something that would be unkind (if accurate) about that never having stopped Rodimus before, and instead said, “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“You really think you can teach me how to sing?”

“I think I can. I think I’d like to.”

Rodimus pulled himself to the edge of the bed, and reached out a hand for Minimus, who let himself be drawn in.

“Okay,” Rodimus exhaled against his plating, arms around him. “Okay.”

***

Some weeks later, Drift caught a snatch of tune Rodimus was singing under his breath as he paged through the latest nav reports, and grinned. “You’re in a good mood.”

Rodimus glanced up, looking guilty. “Sorry. I’ll stop.”

“No, no - I’m enjoying it.”

Rodimus’s cheeks flushed. Then he glanced down, cleared his throat, and resumed, “ _Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars…”_


End file.
